I Wish I Had Done Something

 I Wish I Had Done Something

I’m caught in a web that entangles itself around me tighter than ever if I try to get away from it. I often feel this is a punishment meted out to me for a sin committed while I was asleep.

 

I can’t recall having committed any sins in my wakeful hours, so, it must have been committed while I was sleeping.

 

I badly wish I were pardoned for whatever I did, but I often feel I’m now past that stage where sins can be forgiven.

 

Right now, I’m certainly not sleeping, and the web gets thicker and thicker as I try to get away from it reminding me of the gravity of my sin.

 

The spider that spun this web has moved on to other corners to spin more webs; I’ve been caught in this clamouring mesh for a long time.

 

It seems to be an eternity when I was free to move around.

 

I can’t recall the time I walked without anything to bother me.

 

I wish I could go back to the time when I was free to dance to the sound of her footsteps.

 

I shouldn’t have gone to sleep. This is the mistake I made.

 

It was while I was asleep that she moved on to greener pastures.

 

She was the reason behind every puff of air I pulled in. I wonder why I let her go in the first place.

 

But then, I virtually pushed her out of my domain because I thought she deserved someone better than me.

 

I wish I hadn’t done it, although I still feel she deserved to be with someone better than me.

 

I still feel she wouldn’t have found all the happiness she deserved had she been in my company.

 

I always wanted her to get all the happiness she deserved, and even more than that.

 

I wish I knew the exact quantum of happiness she deserved; I wouldn’t have been able to give it to her all the same.

 

I always wanted her to be the happiest person on earth. Somehow, I know this wouldn’t have been possible had she been with me.

 

On second thoughts,  I shouldn’t have let an inferiority complex cow me down.

 

Moreover, I should have shown her all the love I have in my heart for her.

 

It might not have been enough to deter me from pushing her off the ship we were on, but I would have had the satisfaction that at least she knows exactly what I feel for her.

 

It would have been a consolation for me that I did do something to stop her.

 

The truth is that I didn’t merely pushed her overboard. I helped her jump off the ship we were on.

 

I half wish I wouldn’t have done this.

 

She might have drowned herself in the turbulent ocean the world is. She might have been devoured by a whale or a fish bigger than a whale.

 

I now wonder if I did the right thing.

 

I did wait till she was safely aboard another ship, till I became oblivious to her. I made sure the ship was a strong and sturdy one.

 

I made sure the ship sailed smoothy before I sailed ahead myself. The ship I’m on leads to a port different from the one the ship she is on is headed for.

 

I hope there is  a lot more fun and frolic on that port than there is on the port I shall find myself on.

 

I want her to be happier than I can ever be. If there were a yardstick to measure happiness with, I wish all its units were to be exhausted in counting the quantum of happiness in her share.

 

If happiness were to be quantified with stars, I’m prepared to wait till I count the last star with my pointing-finger, and still not get tired of counting stars.

 

I shall never be completely happy and content with what I did. I know that I pushed her off, there shall always be a sense of guilt, but at least I shall have the satisfaction that she is happy.

 

 She has served the purpose of a mirage in a desert. She has been moving away from me with every step I took towards her, and this has been what has been pushing me to move on in this desert my life has been.

 

I can now understand how a nomad fatigued with thirst feels while crossing a dry and raid desert: a mirage is there before him, it is very attractive, but he can’t touch it.

 

In an attempt to get to it, the nomad moves towards his destination with more zeal and vigour than ever. The only condition is that his destination and the mirage should be in the same direction.

 

She is an oasis of hope for me. This is where I shall find satisfaction and happiness packed in huge containers used to transport goods aboard ships.

 

Somehow, I know the mirage I have been running after is a mirage of the oasis of hope she is. It keeps moving away from me; it always will.

 

This is how I shall keep moving on in life, and this is how most of us maintain a steady momentum in our lives.

 

Everyone of us has a typical oases of hope that pulls us towards itself, and we move on towards it.

 

The oasis assumes different shapes and forms for all of us, but it does manifest itself in one form or the other for all of us.

 

The nomad is sure to find some amount of relief when he knows he is on the track that leads to a destination. Somewhere in a remote corner of my heart, I  feel  confident she loves me as much as I love her.

 

There are times when I’m sure she loves me. She has been searching for my abode while going around like a nomad.

 

I hope she finds herself on the track leading to my abode soon.